Reflections
by Lynx Traveller
Summary: The most down-trodden Decepticon reflects on things that were never meant to be. (Please R&R. comeback fic.)


Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.

Well, this is my 'coming out of retirement' fic. (Ok, show of hands, who actually noticed that I was gone?? I notice no one bothered to e-mail me to see if I was still breathing.) I retired about early March after not having written anything decent since September.

Anyway, I'm coming back, tentatively. It'll probably be a while, if ever before I get back to writing 2-3 fics a week though.

Anyway, I hope you like this one.

………

I looked over at my other two components, the three of us shifting boxes like a group of menials.

We are, at best a joke. Something of ridicule, something to be teased. Even the humans can beat us easily in a fight.

It wasn't supposed to be that way. When we were built, we were designed to be something special. 

But that's bureaucrats for you.

Just before the third Great War broke out, a warrior known as Orion Pax was created.

At the time he was nothing special. Just another of the domestic line of Quint slaves.

It wasn't until after he was almost killed by Megatron and rebuilt into Optimus Prime that his secret was revealed.

Whether he'd had it all along, or it was a result of the trauma of having half the casing of his lasercore blown off I don't know, but his spark was split into three equal parts.

I can only imagine the look on Alpha Trions face when he discovered this; by all rights, Pax should be dead with an injury like that.

But Alpha Trion was known for being a quick thinker.

All this was before my time, but I can only imagine the shock on the Decepticons faces when Prime first released both his battlestation and his scout car Roller, both components being a living extension of Prime himself.

Naturally the Decepticons were quick to realise the tactical advantage of this; one mind controlling three or more battle-capable bodies.

Their first experiments were a failure; one or more of the components would always be weaker than the others and thus would fail, the remaining components unable to live with the loss of the other.

And so Megatron looked for a solution in the reverse.

Gestalts. One body controlled by multiple minds.

It's ironic to think that Devastator could be so large and we so small.

But by this time a lot of effort was being put into the original project; Prime was proving quite formidable, yet still every attempt to split a spark ended in failure.

Finally the Decepticons discovered a way to trick Vector Sigma into making a lasercore with only weak physical bonds between its independently capable segments.

Thus I was born.

I was to be Primes equal. A soldier capable of facing him one on one without needing to worry about being outflanked. A warrior capable of systematically raiding a warehouse and not needing to worry about rooms being overlooked. 

But that's when the, to coin a human phrase, 'book-learned' idiots who have no idea about practicality stepped in. 

After almost three centuries of trying to develop the ultimate lasercore, they decided that it would be uneconomical to give an entire shell to a part of a spark. They decreed that the materials of one shell should be divided up into three.

But it didn't stop there. We have a brilliant mind; three capable minds able to communicate on every level yet function independently have a lot of potential tactically.

But no, rather than be deployed as a tactician, our small stature decreed that we'd be more suited to espionage.

And so we were assigned a roll that Soundwave easily fulfils. We are unnecessary. The greatest minds in the Decepticon armada and the only thing we're good for is tasks like packing crates or maintenance, jobs where it pays to know what the others are doing.

"Reflector, you done stacking those parts yet? Megatron sent me to tell you that the bulkhead in my room has come adrift again and needs someone small to re-weld it. Do a better job this time eh?"

I didn't bother acknowledging the order, but Viewfinder did give a fleeting scowl at the door when it was closed. We knew as well as the black seeker did that Megatron gave no such order, but it was our lot in life. As one of our forebears had once said, everything in life has worth, even me.

………

Well, what'd you think?? Leave a review and tell me (and fess up to not even noticing I was gone!)


End file.
